Forgotten
by Atama Ga Kuru Teru
Summary: He couldn't remember who he was, why he was injured, or why he was in the middle of the forest during a storm wearing a soldier's uniform. But that didn't stop him from falling for her the moment he stumbled into her house - it only made it worse when the day came that his memories returned, and the world died around him. Prussia x Reader


**Bah. I know x readers are taboo on FFN, but I wrote this awhile ago on my dA account and really like it. I figured I'd give it a whirl to put it up here if only for the sake of people to know I'm still alive. Haha. I suck at writing now because I never have the motivation/inspiration but I know that I've improved from my days of "fame" on this hormonal site.**

**Let's have some good ol' angst, shall we?**

**This takes place during WWII and concerns the fall of Prussia. Not everything is historically accurate in terms of I didn't really put major facts in.**

* * *

He awoke to the clap of thunder so loud it sounded like the clamor of a dozen gunshots. Lightning lit up the grey sky, a white jagged scar striking down the middle of a blackened and tormented face. Every inch of him was soaked straight to the bone, and he stared at his hand as rain dripped slowly down the pale skin.

"Where…am I…?"

He could remember nothing.

Not why he was sitting beneath a tree in the middle of a forest as a storm raged overhead. Not why he was dressed in a ragged soldier's uniform covered with specks of blood here and there. Not why his chest hurt—his _heart_, as if an invisible hand had reached through the flesh and twisted it in a vice.

All he could remember was his name.

"I am…Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt." The words tumbled out of his dry lips, a guttural and exhausted voice meeting his ears. "Gilbert…"

But that was all he knew. That and he had to start moving, to find someone, anyone—fast.

He got up. Slowly, painfully. Every limb in his body felt as if someone had beaten him with an iron pole, dragged him off to the woods, and left him there to die . The wind howled above the treetops and more lightning crackled down the middle of the sky as his legs mechanically began to move, rain drumming down on his head hard and fast. More thunder that echoed like gunshots rumbled in the atmosphere, and he paused as a he noticed a large puddle being formed on the muddy ground. He looked down into it.

He was pale. Paler than pale—nearly as white as a ghost. His hair was so light it was almost silver, and his eyes were redder than the embers in a fire. The torn and bloodied uniform he donned looked so familiar yet so strange, as if it did not belong on him and someone else who looked like he did.

"What am I doing here?"

His inquiry was met with another roll of thunder, and Gilbert took it as a sign to keep moving, however agonizing it was.

Gilbert did not know how long he walked for. He did not know which direction he was headed, nor did he know where he planned on going. It was cold, and it was wet, and he just wanted to find somebody. Somebody who might be able to tell him who exactly he was and why he was there.

The storm raged on overhead like a war. The forest went on and on and on, seemingly endless. _Give up_, a voice whispered mockingly in his mind, a cruel echo of his own voice. _Give up. It won't matter anyway. Nothing does now. You are nothing. Nobody. Just give up._

Gilbert did not listen and continued on dragging himself through the muddy expanse of trees.

It was pure torture. He was so tired; in so much pain. Anguish flowed sluggishly through his veins as every particle of his body throbbed with agony. It was almost as if he had…as if he had…

As if he had been in a war of some sort.

Finally, after what seemed to be ages, Gilbert stopped short and stared ahead of him. It was like a miracle from whatever deity was watching his struggle from up above. A small cabin nestled between a cluster of trees, the windows lit up with a soft light from within.

He was at the front door before he realized it, fist weakly beating against the wooden surface in desperation. "Open up," he begged to himself, slumping against the door-frame as a wave of exhaustion suddenly crept up upon him. "Please…for the love of God…open up…"

The door open and he tumbled into the warmth of the cabin, collapsing on the floor as somewhere above him a feminine gasp sounded. The world spun as his crimson eyes lost focus, everything fading in and out. Then he saw them.

Beautiful (e/c) gems, staring down at him like a guardian angel's.

A small grin crept its way across Gilbert's lips. "About…damn…time…"

The universe dissolved in blackness.

* * *

Warmth. Delicious warmth pooling all around him, surrounding him a cocoon of comfort. Birdsong from outside; no thunder or howling wind. Gentle hands pressed against him forehead, a voice whispering to itself as his head rested on a soft pillow. His eyes slowly pried themselves open and he found himself gazing at a young woman whose face was twisted into an expression of worry and concern, the same (e/c) eyes from before boring themselves right into his.

"Good, you're finally awake," the girl sighed with relief, pulling back from him. She smiled tentatively, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I was really worried. You were hurt and if you had been in the rain any longer, you would have gotten sick…oh! I'm (name). I should probably introduce myself before I go spouting off. By the way, I'll have to change your bandages soon."

Gilbert blinked, staring down at himself. His chest was bare save for a plethora of bandages wrapped around it tightly, the whiteness stained pink by blood having seeped through. The rest of him was covered with blankets, and he couldn't tell if he was wearing pants. Shaking his head he returned his gaze to the girl—(name)—and said, "Beilschmidt. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Gilbert. Right then." (Name) seemed to appraise him for a moment, picking up a bandage roll from the desk next to the bed he was in. "Well, I need to change these now, so…"

He watched in silence as she gingerly unpeeled the bandages from his chest, revealing a white canvas marred by red scratches and bruises everywhere. Gilbert sucked in his breath when she began to wrap the new one around him, eyes squeezing shut. "So, what happened to you?" (Name) questioned as she administrated first aid to him. He noticed then that her hair was (h/c), and a lovely one at that.

As she bandaged him, he glanced around the cabin. It was small, quaint; there was not much decoration and the only furniture was the bed he was in, a table with one chair, two dressers, a night table beside the bed and a small couch, complete with a small part of the cabin designated as a kitchen. The fireplace was going, filling the small space with warmth and a pleasant scent of smoke.

"…I don't know." The answer took some time, and he had to force it out of his mouth. "I just woke up like this in the forest during the storm."

"You don't remember?" (Name) paused, giving him a curious look. "You were wearing a soldier's uniform…and covered in wounds! But, there's no battlefield anywhere near here…plus, well, the war is—" she cut herself off, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. We should just focus on getting you well rested. Then we can figure out what happened. Sound reasonable, Gilbert?"

At the word "war" images suddenly flashed in his mind. Voices shouting commands, bodies slumped over in muddy pits, trembling hands in front of his face clutching a gun like a lifeline. The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and death. A face appeared in front of his, one smudged with blood and dirt, icy blue eyes glinting darkly as rain poured onto blonde hair.

_"Brother…Germany and Prussia, we are…we are…"_

As soon as the cavalcade of unfamiliar emotions and scenes and sounds abruptly ended, Gilbert blinked multiple times. He swallowed as a bizarre sensation seeped into his veins, like he had somewhere to be and someone to protect, but he just wrote it all off as a side effect of his wounds and concentrated on his answer.

He nodded, wondering why he felt so at peace here. It was odd; for some reason, there was a part of him deep down that was telling him that he should feel the opposite.

_You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere. Not anymore you do. Leave. Leave now. Leave before you care for her._

Gilbert ignored the voice despite the way it put him ill at ease. He just nodded and gave (name) a grin, rolling his shoulders slightly. "I'll heal quickly, don't worry! Someone as awesome as me can't trouble a girl as pretty as you!"

It just happened on its own, the assertive and inflated answer. Was this haughty and confident personality truly his? It came so easily to him, so it must be, yet...

He just couldn't remember.

(Name) gave a grin of her own. "That sounds like a plan. Well then," she stood up and brushed her hands off on the simple dress she wore, heading over to the kitchen area. "it's time to get you something to eat. You were asleep almost an entire day. I hope you like sausage!"

As she busied herself at the stove, Gilbert closed his eyes and thought to himself. If he remembered correctly (who knew if it was correct, considering he seemed to have amnesia) girls her age did not live by themselves in the middle of the forest, away from civilization. Then again, men probably didn't wake up alone in the woods without any memory aside from their name in the middle of a storm.

What was he doing here?

Why had he been wearing a soldier's uniform and been covered in wounds?

Why couldn't he _remember_?

Rubbing his face as if ridding the thoughts from his mind, Gilbert grunted and shifted somewhat, testing his pain tolerance. To his surprise, he was only a bit sore—definitely not the amount of agony he'd been in while walking through the forest during the storm.

"I know what you're thinking—why am I out here all by myself?" (Name)'s voice interrupted him as she fried sausage in a pan over the stove, filling the cabin with an absolutely appetizing aroma.

"Because you're lying in wait for a handsome man like me to fall into your arms injured so you can nurse them back to health?" Gilbert joked, sending her a devious smirk. It was strange, really—this personality just oozed out of him so easily and he couldn't stop it. It was like watching himself from afar, and he could only continue the act.

"No," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "It's because…well…"

Silence clutched her in its claws for a few moments, before a strange expression crossed over her face and she shrugged. Gilbert sensed something like chaos causing havoc within her, but she just said, "Well, I don't really know. I guess I just like the peace and quiet. But enough about me—the sausage is done!"

Before Gilbert could question if anything was wrong, (name) had a plate of steaming hot sausage links piled up on one another in his lap.

It was then that Gilbert remembered something about himself:

Food always came before questions.

* * *

Days passed. Those days turned into weeks. Soon, it had been two months since Gilbert had woken up with amnesia and stumbled upon (name)'s cabin. Shockingly enough, his wounds had healed within the first couple of days and Gilbert was up and walking around with ease. (Name)'s cabin in the woods was actually only a mile away from a small town, but it was big enough so that she could go in and get food and supplies when need be, as well as do the occasional odd job for money here and there.

Gilbert, of course, made himself useful. He helped with firewood as well as repairing whatever needed it in her cabin as payment for the food and clothing she provided. There was some sort of silent agreement between the two of them for him not to pry as to why she lived out in the forest on her own, and for her not to try and help him remember.

He somehow sensed that his amnesia was protecting both him and (name) from something neither of them wanted.

It wasn't long before Gilbert realized that he felt like two different people in one body. The cocky, playful arrogance that he often used when addressing (name) was like an outer coating for the turbulence inside of his chest that constantly plagued him. At night he would lay awake, playing the images that would flash in his mind over and over again.

And always, always, the voice would tell him he didn't belong.

_You can never be with her, you fool. You're dead to the rest of the world. You need to disappear. You don't belong, Gilbert, and you never will again._

But Gilbert refused to listen to that condescending tone.

It was peculiar, though—how (name) never questioned why he had been wearing a soldier's uniform. It was as if she did not care. And, frankly, that's how Gilbert wanted it—he reveled in the friendship they had formed over the months. However, from the newspapers that (name) brought back from the town, he was able to piece together what had happened to Germany over the last few years.

A war. A war had ravaged Europe with flames of destruction licking over every mile it could reach. Germany, Japan and Italy had been allies against the United States, France, England and Russia. The war was still raging but (name) seemed to know it was almost done, and Germany would not come out the victor. The country's people were suffering from inflation and lack of sufficient supplies, but luckily the area they were in was getting by fine. Gilbert figured he was a German soldier who had been fighting a battle and gotten injured, thus contracting amnesia; but how did that explain him being in (name)'s forest?

Either way, it didn't matter who he had been in that lifetime. Now, sitting in front of a fireplace every night with (name) and laughing with her, seeing her smile that could light up even the stars…he despised the war and everything it apparently stood for. "To hell with it!" was his motto. "War isn't awesome in the least—the awesome me won't stand for it!"

And, whenever he said that, (name) would always respond with, "If only the rest of those bigheaded commanders had the same mindset."

It wasn't before long that Gilbert realized he had fallen in love with her.

How could he not? She was perfect; more beautiful than whatever angels were supposed to look like. (Name) could smile and be herself—to Gilbert, that was the most important thing. She was gorgeous inside and out, and there were days where all he wanted to do was run his pale fingers through her mane of (h/c) hair and stare into her star-like (e/c) eyes, holding her and listening to her heartbeat until he finally threw all caution to the wind and kissed her like their lives depended on it.

But he could never say that to her.

She was his friend.

His best friend.

Until, one day, when (name) came racing into the cabin from her weekly trip to town with newspaper in hand, face flushed from running and eyes wide with shock.

"Oh my God, Gilbert…!"

He looked up from the uneven leg of the table that he had been fixing, crimson eyes meeting with hers. Immediately he knew something was wrong and, without hesitation, grabbed the newspaper that she was holding out for him.

"WAR OVER—ALLIED POWERS WIN," was typed across the front page, and Gilbert felt his heart drop.

However, when he looked at the next page and at the main title there, his heart exploded like shrapnel.

"Prussia officially abolished by Germany and Allied Powers."

Gilbert stumbled back as his chest suddenly constricted, clutching at his shirt as he gasped for air. His head pounded, threatening to explode as images and sounds and everything else suddenly rushed back like a tidal wave. Somewhere far away (name) was yelling his name in fear, her gentle hands trying to steady him as he swayed, but he pushed her back as the world erupted in a flash of clarity, and he slumped to the floor.

When he lifted his head up, red eyes meeting with her terrified (e/c) ones, he smiled.

A smile full of the sorrows of an entire country.

"…I remember who I am and what happened now, (name)." His voice, usually bursting with a smirk, was quiet and drawn back as he slowly got to his feet. When she didn't say anything and merely stared at him, Gilbert slowly inched his arms around her waist and held her as tightly as he dared. "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt," he whispered in her ear, voice quivering. "the human personification of Prussia—and the older brother of Ludwig, the human personification of Germany. And I'm…supposed to be dead now."

"W-what…? N-No! No, you're not—Gilbert, s-stop joking around, you're not…!" (Name) pulled away from him quickly and just stared, her eyes full of pain as he merely continued his defeated, crushed smile.

"I am, (name)," he whispered. "I was abolished a few years back by the people who are making my brother look like an evil country, but I was still fighting for him—to protect him, like every goddamn older brother should. But…during a battle, I…they made it so I couldn't remember who I was—so I wasn't Prussia—and dumped me off in your forest. Because they didn't want me fighting for my little brother. But now…now I remember. And because of that, I…have to go."

Gilbert turned around and headed for the door without another word.

"NO!" (Name) screeched and grabbed onto his hand, yanking him back. Gilbert stumbled a bit and turned towards her, blinking with shock, until he saw her face.

She was crying.

"You can't leave me, dammit," she whispered, shaking her head vehemently as her grip on his hand tightened. "Y-You _can't!_ G-Gilbert, you're…my f-friend! You can't…"

"Oh, sweetheart," Gilbert breathed, immediately taking her back into his arms like he had wanted to do a thousand times a day since meeting her. "I'm so sorry…I don't want to, but I must…I'm not a country anymore, (name). I have to disappear. Or is it that…you don't believe me? I know it's difficult to stomach, but I'm—"

"I knew," her voice was just a whisper; any more, and it would be a sob. "I knew, Gilbert. You…would talk in your sleep. I figured your sub consciousness knew and you just couldn't remember, so I would ask around when I went to town about you but…I knew. I never said anything because I didn't think it was right. So dammit," her voice rose to a hysterical number, "you can't leave me, Gilbert!"

For some reason, Gilbert had already known she had figured it out.

He didn't say anything and just continued to hold her, so (name) went on. "…the reason I live here, all by myself? Because my parents are gone. They just walked out one day and never came back, because they never really wanted a daughter, especially when it was so hard to take care of children because of the wars. I had no one else to live with. I went out to the woods to die and…I found this cabin. And, well, I realized…I had to keep going, because maybe I could help someone. And then…you came, and I…and I…"

She took a deep breath, buried her face in the fabric of his shirt and blurted out, "I love you, Gilbert! Goddammit, I love you, and if you leave then I won't know what to do and…and…and…!"

Gilbert's hands moved with a mind of their own. While they had been on her waist only second before, they were now on her cheeks, holding her face against his as he brushed his mouth tentatively against her own. The hesitance gave way to desperation and the two were kissing one another with haste, all lips and teeth and tongue and pure anguished desolation as they clutched at one another. (Name) held back a sob as Gilbert slowly pulled away, though every instinct in him was screaming to kiss her until neither of them had any breath left.

"…I love you too, (name)." The words tumbled out of his mouth thickly. "I love you more than I thought was possible. I don't…deserve someone like you, sweetheart, so I have to…go. I'm not supposed to be here anymore and if I stay, you'll…get hurt."

This was perhaps the most difficult thing he had ever done.

Hell, even Frederick's funeral hadn't ripped his heart to pieces as badly as this had, and the Prussian leader had been Gilbert's father figure from the moment he had earned the crown.

"Countries—even ones that no longer exist— and humans can never be together. It's too painful. So, please, (name)…" Gilbert buried his face into the juncture between her neck and shoulders, taking as deep a breath of her scent as he could in an effort to imprint it into his nostrils forever. "Keep living. You have to, okay? For me. Finding you was the greatest gift I've ever received and I can never repay you for what you've given me—friendship, and…love."

If he prolonged this anymore, he would shatter.

"…I love you," (name) muttered as the tears began to cascade down her cheeks like a waterfall, turning her head away so he couldn't see as soundless sobs racked her body. "I know…it was selfish of me to not tell you who I thought you were, but I just…couldn't bear the thought of you leaving. And now…I-I know you have to, b-but I just…I-I can't…"

She swallowed, taking a deep breath.

"…will you be dead, Gilbert?"

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "…in a way, yeah. Prussia is dead. A part of me has died along with it. Ludwig—Germany—will probably let me live with him still, but I'll…not be of any importance to the world anymore. And to think," he stared at his hands, knowing they were stained with the invisible blood of so many centuries' worth of fighting and conquering, "I used to be a kingdom all of Europe feared."

There was silence between them then, neither one wanting to say the words that had to be said.

"…goodbye, (name)."

It was Gilbert who eventually whispered it, even though it was a sentence he had never wanted to utter.

"Goodbye…G-Gilbert," (name) replied in a raspy tone; her sobs wouldn't be able to be held back for much longer now. "…will we…e-ever see each other again?"

At that, he managed a small smile, though it was not a smile without sorrow. "…I hope so, (name). No…I know so. After all," he allowed a quiet chuckle, one that was reminiscent of his former self, "I'm awesome, remember? And awesome guys like me don't disappear forever."

(Name) still did not turn around, but Gilbert knew she was smiling through her tears. "R-Right…that wouldn't be very awesome, would it? …I-I'll miss you, Gilbert…"

Gilbert was certain that at that moment his soul would fracture into a thousand pieces.

"I'll miss you too, (name). …I love you. Remember that; always. I may not be Prussia anymore, but…I will always love you more than you know. …goodbye, (name). I'm sure we'll see each other again."

"Gilbert, I—"

But when (name) had turned around to speak, to grab his hand and force him to stay there with her forever, he was gone.

(Name) stared at the place where he had been standing only moments before, hand unsteady and quaking as it stretched out to feel the empty space where his body had been. Her fingers closed around the hollow, vacant air into a fist, and she slowly sank to the ground, (h/c) hair falling in front of her face as her (e/c) eyes slid shut.

"…you never finished fixing the table, you bastard."

And, once she had uttered those words, (name) let the sobs and gasps take over her at last.

Gilbert was gone.

Prussia was gone.

Despite everything— the way her heart was crumbling like grains of sand being washed away by the sea and the fact that she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe—(name) knew they would see each other again.

Gilbert and (name) could forget who they themselves were a million times over, but they would never forget who the other was.

That much, she was certain of.


End file.
